Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

84. Poem

The clouds just vanished 

A touch is all it took 

Bare reality was glaring 

The child was almost blinded 

Fantasy was all that was there 

Childhood stories retained 

Reality broke the myths 

Only to awaken from sleep 

Books that blindfold 

Fooling the senses 

Hoping for something 

That's never going to be 

Geniuses aren't reading 

Books on mermaids and fairies 

Reality is bitter truth 

Unless it was well cooked 

Let the memories be 

Real and not fantasy 

So that when calamity strikes 

Children are well prepared 

Life's not a bed of roses sans thorns 

Preparing how to unpluck these 

And letting the petals breathe 

Fantasies aren't part of life 

These are stories capturing minds 

Sleep well O dear child 

Life isn't, monsters and fairies

 

 

◄ 83. Poem

Expectations ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message